Kiss the Rain
by Dracoisalooker76
Summary: There were times when he woke up and thought, for the briefest of moments, that the redhead beside him was Shannon." Familyverse. AU. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Don't ask me why, but I had this intense urge to write a Familyverse fic for a while. I've tried about fifteen different plots, and finally, I came up with just a simple oneshot. It spurred from the idea that most of the Familyverses that I've read go like this: Gibbs marries Jenny, they have all the little Gibblets, and there is no mention of Shannon. I, for one, believe she should be a part of a Familyverse fic.**

**Thus, this was born.**

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Kiss the Rain

_"If one dream should fall and break into a thousand pieces, never be afraid to pick one of those pieces up and begin again." _

_-- Flavia Weedn, Illustrator and Artist_

There were times when he woke up and thought, for the briefest of moments, that the redhead beside him was Shannon. He usually realized this wasn't true fairly quickly, but it was never because he remembered she was dead. He always noticed something different about the woman lying in the bed that was not Shannon-like. Perhaps it was just the way she was laying on her side instead of her back, or the way her hair fanned out around her instead of braided in a neat line.

These were the reasons he was brought to reality.

Brought to the fact that Shannon was dead and the redhead beside him would never be Shannon again.

He had never told Jenny about Shannon. In fact, he had never told any of his wives about her. Shannon was a part of his past that he longed to forget. He thought that, if he forgot, he wouldn't hurt again. He had placed her in the part of his mind that held his father, Stillwater, and everything that had been ruined.

And then he carried on.

He leaned forward and rubbed his eyes. Beside him, Jenny didn't stir. On the clock seated on his bedside table, the little green numbers flashed, signaling there had been a power surge the night before. He walked to the window. The rain was still pouring outside.

Checking his watch, he fixed the time on the clock. He'd slept for two hours. A new record.

Pulling on his jeans and an NIS shirt, he walked down the stairs. The light in the kitchen was on and his senses immediately went into overdrive. He walked into the living room, quickly opening the safe hidden in the bookshelf and withdrew his sig.

A crash erupted from the basement and he was immediately on the steps, his gun pointed outward. He flicked the light on and watched as the artificial glow illuminated the wooden boat he was building. It was only when a tiny figure walked out, a teddy bear in her arms, that he put the gun down.

She looked so much like Kelly that sometimes he had to catch himself before saying her name. Today, though, he knew it was not Kelly. The five-year-old before him was not the eight-year-old he had lost so many years before. Her big brown eyes looked up at him with a watery film covering them. He gently tread down the stairs and sat down on the counter, pulling the five-year-old onto his lap.

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly. She didn't respond but he could feel her little heart racing as she leaned her back into his chest. As her breathing slowed, he pulled the bear from her arms and placed it on the counter beside them and tilted her chin so he could look into her eyes. Her brown eyes. Kelly's had been blue. "What happened?"

She shook her head, reaching forward for the bear. A crack of thunder erupted from outside and he felt her stiffen, leaning back into him. She grabbed his arm and held onto it tightly, her heart rate increasing again.

"It's just rain, Ziver," he said, stroking her hair and hugging her tightly to him. "It's not going to hurt you."

She shut her eyes. "But…"

"No," he said quietly. "Rain and thunder will not hurt you."

She looked up at him, attempting to gauge his honesty. He raised an eyebrow and stood from the counter. "Where are we going?" she asked as he climbed the stairs. He didn't answer.

He walked through the kitchen and the living room until he had made it to the door. Outside the sky was dark and the rain was beating down hard on the pavement. He stood on the covered porch, the same porch that he would read to Kelly on in the warm summer nights, as the rain began to form puddles on the ground.

He turned to find her waiting. Her brown eyes, no more than a few inches away from his icy blues, stared at him, wondering what he was doing. He stepped down off the porch and allowed the rain to engulf them, soak them.

A thin bolt of lightning lit up the sky as the thunder cracked, causing her to gasp. He set her on the ground and looked up at the sky, sticking out his tongue to catch the drops. Within moments, he could see her doing the same.

Another crash of thunder sounded and she inched toward him, grasping his leg with her tiny arms. He looked down at her. "See, thunder's loud, but it won't hurt you," he told her, lifting her into his arms and wiping a piece of water-soaked hair from her eye.

She shivered, nodding at the same time, and he brought her inside, knowing Jenny would have a fit if she woke up to find them outside, soaking wet, in the middle of one of the worst storms Washington had seen all year. He took her upstairs and dried her off, dressing her in new pajamas and wrapping her up in blankets.

He tucked her into the bed he had made specifically for her: a princess bed. It was the same type he had made for Kelly. He sat down on the edge of the bed, chuckling to himself at the sight of all the blankets hidden beneath her comforter. "Don't be scared," he told her.

She nodded. "Okay," she said softly, a yawn escaping her mouth. "Goodnight, Daddy."

"G'night," he mumbled, standing from the bed and pulling the curtains of the canopy shut. He walked across the hall and opened the door, peeking his head in to see that Tony, unlike his sister, had slept through the storm and was still sleeping, his leg hanging off the edge and his covers kicked off.

He quietly walked down the stairs once more and poured himself a glass of black coffee, running a hand over his face.

Sometimes he wondered why he never told Jenny about Shannon and Kelly. He supposed it was that he figured Jenny would be just another. His fourth ex, fifth wife. But, then, somewhere along the line, his life had started over. Tony came and, not even a year later, they had Ziva and suddenly he was a father again. He had a purpose again. And he liked that. He didn't want to lose that.

So, he buried Shannon and Kelly deep within his mind where only he could remember them. And he built boats to ease the pain of seeing them in Jenny, in Tony, in Ziva.

And he started over.

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**Depending on what you guys say, this could be a prologue for a full-length story that includes Abby and Tim and all the rest.**

**Thanks for reading!**


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